I was somewhat dismayed Monday evening of last week. I had just left the stage after singing and playing my acoustic guitar for a crowd of mostly up-Island community folk at Radio Farm in West Tisbury when an officer from the West Tisbury police department came by to politely say that there was a noise complaint.
Sure, I haven’t been performing for a while, but gee whiz I thought it sounded okay, maybe a bit rusty but I certainly didn’t expect a complaint.
Ben Taylor and sister Sally (James and Carly’s kids) and cousin Issac Taylor (whose family owns and operates The Outermost Inn) also played.
Ben mentioned that when he and Sally drove in Sally remarked how it felt so much like an old school Island happening. Spot on!
We were also blessed with the music from John Cruz (former lead singer of Entrain, Grammy winner and the writer of a song that is pretty much the Hawaiian national anthem, Island Style). He was accompanied by the awesome guitar of Mike Benjamin and the incredibly adept upright bass playing of Brad Tucker, the talented and humble steward of Radio Farm.
What made it akin to days past was that it felt like a family gathering and, well, actually it was. The children enjoyed playing with the ducks and George the Mastiff (named after the renowned former West Tisbury police chief, George Manter, father of select board member Skip and great uncle of Brad Tucker).
The adults sat on the lawn or wandered about giving and receiving hugs and sharing neighborly news — perhaps of births, graduations, loved ones passing.
That is what for me made it feel like the former times. Oddly, what made it feel like present times is that a ‘neighbor’ complained.
I felt disheartened because the ‘neighbor’ missed such a great opportunity to get to know some neighbors, not to mention such stellar performers, all playing for free, all sharing the love and up-Island vibe that most of the audience know by heart.
That’s what they missed, one of the many facets of the heart of the Island — true community. beautiful acoustic-based music with a somewhat strict adherence to a 10 p.m. curfew.
I don’t really understand the complaint, unless of course maybe I played so badly that I inflicted some unbearable pain and suffering. If that’s the case, I apologize.
The truly sad part is that not only did the complainants miss out on what has been slowly growing as a wonderful Monday night gathering of the clan whose welcome extends to all comers, they missed the opportunity to meet their neighbors and to make friends.
And what they did accomplish? Well, for the time being, it was to quell what has felt like a once-in-a-lifetime experience for the last few Monday nights.
I guess there’s no going next door to borrow a cup of sugar. That’s old school.
Gazette contributor Joe Keenan lives in West Tisbury.
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